Under Management

By Tris

Published on Jun 17, 2002

Gay

Author's Note:

Hey everyone, this is my first submission to the Nifty Archive. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am writing it. I'm trying to get as much realism as is possible in a story of this type, so the characters will need to get to know each other before there is any sex. It's also not exactly a 'two guys fall in love, and live happily ever after' story, there are going to be a few bumps in the road.

If you have any comments or constructive criticisms or whatever then e-mail me: mystories@btinternet.com

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. I don't know or own any of the celebrities mentioned in it. I also don't know anything about the personalities or sexual orientations of any of the members of *NSYNC, and the purpose of this story is not to imply anything about them. Secondly, this story contains adult themes and content as well as gay relationships. If you're too young to, or don't want to, read what's contained within, then leave now. Everyone else, enjoy...

Under Management by Tris

Chapter 13

"Look JC you shouldn't be making compromises 'cos you're worried we won't get enough dancers. I'm sure one day this week there'll be a really impressive group and we'll be sorry that we have to turn people down." I suggested, taking a bite from my sandwich.

"We're not making compromises... granted they aren't as good as we'd like but they'll get better with more practice." He defended. He took a sip of the energy drink that was resting next to me, on the table which I was sitting on, before asking, "How are we doing for stage crew?"

"Not too badly actually. So far we've got twenty eight, meaning I only need to find twelve more - I'm hoping to get that done by lunch time tomorrow since I've scheduled meetings with the makeup artists and stylists that the agency has provided. As long as I'm happy that they'll all get along with each other and everyone else involved I'll hire them." I explained as my attention was drawn towards Cathleen and Ruth, the two female choreographers, who were trying to explain a dance move to a group of enrollees. They looked like they were in the middle of a lesbian sex act, but I didn't comment on it.

"You'll hire them, just like that?" JC asked skeptically.

"There's no reason not too. The agency came highly recommended; you've used it for all of your tours with Jive. I don't see any reason to break from tradition." I clarified.

"Makes sense." He shrugged, and then smiled. Then there was a gap in our conversation as we ate but it didn't seem at all awkward. In fact I was getting along really well with him, although I had steered well clear of the topic of Lance, afraid of spoiling the high spirits. "Hey Alex, shouldn't you be meeting with Johnny and the new guy about now... it's five past two." I quickly checked my watch and saw that he was right.

"Shit, I'm late." I swore as I shoved the remains of my lunch into my mouth, "See ya Jayce!" I garbled with a mouthful of tuna sandwich. I then dashed out of the dance studio, and across the parking lot. I jogged into main reception, not bothering to acknowledge the receptionist, who as always was smiling politely. I pressed the elevator call button, and stood at the closed doors fidgeting and tapping my foot impatiently. I checked my wristwatch once more: 2.08. There wasn't time to wait for the elevator so I took the stairs. I know this sounds extreme but Johnny Wright was known for his punctuality and he expected everyone else to follow his example; and God help those who didn't.

The third floor housed all of management's offices, including my own since I hadn't switched when I left the psychiatrist post. When I reached it I headed straight for Johnny's office, and stopped right outside the door. I allowed myself several seconds to catch my breath, I straightened my tie and brushed down my suit and then knocked. The response came in the form of a throaty 'come in' and that's just what I did.

I entered the office, probably one of the largest in the compound, warily and quickly noticed the two figures sitting at a desk on the other side of the room. I immediately recognized my superior, who was scowling slightly, but I had never met the other guy before, he was presumably our prospective tour manager.

"Alex. Glad to see you could finally make it." Johnny welcomed me with a hint of sarcasm, "Let me introduce you to Benjamin Price." He gestured towards the man sitting opposite him at the desk. The guy stood and turned to face me. The first thing that struck me about him was his coloring. He had dark brown, almost black hair, cut fairly long so that it dangled in his face, which was complemented by very tanned olive skin, but when I reached his eyes and made brief contact with them I found that they were blue, a very light sort of baby blue, the same color that Justin wore so much of. An Italian with a twist, I thought to myself, smiling a little. He offered me his hand and returned my smile; his pearly white teeth were a stark contrast to his skin tone.

"Hey, pleased to meet you." He said, with the slightest hint of a Bronx accent.

"Hi. I'm Alex Michaels, the group's manager." I introduced myself.

"Yeah, Mr. Wright explained." He nodded and sat back down in his seat, Johnny indicated for me to the same.

"You both know the situation," Johnny began, "There are three and a half weeks until the band leaves for Germany to begin their tour. Benjamin, if you're hired, you'll start work as soon as possible. You'll be helping Alex make sure everything and everyone is ready on time and then you'll be in charge of the day to day running of the tour." He turned away from the new guy and directed his comments at me, "Alex, you'll be staying here, coordinating the tour as a whole, travel, publicity, personnel and so on, although, you'll be expected to fly to wherever the group is every few weeks to give some support to Benjamin here.

"As well as all that I'm sure you both realize that the company has a lot of money invested in those boys, you in particular Alex, and the directors want to see where their money is being spent." Johnny paused to take a breath, and suddenly his expression changed into a comical grin. I didn't like where this was going. "If everything goes as planned the two of you will be expected to host a gala dinner on the night of the first concert, for the directors and a few other artists on the label who want to show their support. I'll give you more specific details at a later date." He gave me a smile, knowing how pissed I would be at this bombshell, "Do either of you have any questions?" He asked.

"Could I have a word with you in private when we're here Mr. Wright?" I asked politely, knowing how annoyed he would be if I called him by his forename in front of Benjamin.

"Of course. How about you Benjamin, any questions?" Johnny continued.

"Uh..." the guy hesitated, clearly sensing the tension that had developed between my employer and me, "Only one. What happens after the tour?"

"Well that's a long way off yet." Johnny chuckled, "But we'll finish up the recording of the album and then release it, along with adequate promotion and..."

"I meant, what'll happen to me?" Benjamin interrupted, clarifying his question.

"Oh. Well... If you're selected in the first place the tour will be pretty grueling so you'll probably want some time off and after that you'll either be transferred to another tour or you can continue to work with *NSYNC in some way, shape or form. We won't lay you off unless you give us good reason to."

"Ok" Benjamin replied, seemingly happy with Johnny's answer.

"Good. Now, I suspect you two want to become better acquainted. I'll leave you to it. He stood from behind his desk and lumbered awkwardly towards the door, "If I don't see you later Benjamin, could you come back in tomorrow at about eleven?" The guy nodded which placated Johnny who opened the door and stepped through it, calling "Page me when you're ready for that talk Alex."

As soon as the door was closed, the newbie spoke up, "He just dropped that on you didn't he? In front of me, so that you couldn't object."

"That just about sums it up." I fumed, allowing silence to return to the room.

"D'you think I've got a chance?" Benjamin asked eagerly, his eyes sparkling, tearing me from my thoughts of hatred.

"Uh... well... He likes you, so you'll probably get it. But if I give you a good referral then his argument'll have more weight with the other executives." I responded honestly.

"Oh... so you're interviewing me?" He questioned, surprised.

"Not exactly, I'm making sure that you'll get along with the guys and the other people on tour, I'm sort of looking out for any quirks in your personality." I made myself clear.

"Alright, so you probably wanna know something about me..."

"I sure do Benjamin; let's start with your age, where you grew up, where you went to school, stuff like that." I urged him to proceed.

"Ok... well first off you can call me Ben; it rolls off the tongue easier. Uh... well I'm 26, I grew up in New York City, the Bronx, until I was ten and then my parents came into some money so we moved to a little town a few clicks outside the city. I've got a brother and two sisters, who are scattered along the east coast. I went through the local schooling system and ended up at NYCU where I got a joint degree in music and business management."

"Right, sounds pretty normal... if you don't mind me asking, were there ever any major bust ups in your family?" I began to switch into shrink mode; I was beginning to understand why Johnny wanted me to do this.

"Not really. I mean, don't get me wrong, we had our arguments, but that's only natural for a house of four teenagers." He laughed, presumably remembering something, "There a few incidents between me and my sisters' boyfriends..."

"That's only to be expected." I smiled, studying his face and body language carefully, I asked, "Do you have significant other?"

"Uh... not really... I had a high school sweetheart, but went to different universities, and I dated a few girls there but nothing major. I guess you could say I've been in enough relationships to know what it's about, but never anything long term."

"What have been doing more recently?" I probed, rapidly switching topics.

"I was a regional manger for a technology company..."

"Technology company?" I queried.

"Intel." He stated, and then continued, "But I figured that I was only using half my degree so I started looking a around for something like this."

"Cool, alright, now how well would say you get along with people in general?"

"Pretty well, I guess, I was never the sporting type, but I wouldn't call myself a geek... I like going out with friends, having a good time, meeting people. I guess you could say it comes pretty naturally to me."

"Great. Could you work with women?"

"Already have." He smiled, but I said nothing wanting him to elaborate, eventually he did so, "I understand all the harassment laws, and I would hope that I stick by them. I don't have a problem with it... in fact I sometimes think girls are more fun to work with... they lighten the testosterone charged atmosphere."

"What about blacks, Hispanics, Asians...? Sorry to have to ask, but its important there aren't any conflicts when you're a coupl'a thousand miles away."

"Again, no problem, my friends are pretty mixed, I've never really seen why people object to them."

"Good. What about gays?"

"Uh..." he hesitated, trying to word his answer politely, "You know, I've never really hung around with one, or worked with one, so I couldn't tell you honestly how I would feel. They've got just as much of a right to be here as I have, I suppose it wouldn't really worry me, I'd prefer they didn't hit on me... but hey, I guess I could deal."

I said nothing for a short while; since Lance and I were going out and it was definitely becoming more serious there would doubtlessly be a time when we would be relatively open about it with other people, not necessarily the public, but with the guys and our friends. Also, if we were to ever do anything together while Lance was on tour, the tour manager would have to know, since it would be part of his job to know where each of the guys were at any one time. So, although Ben's answer didn't fill me with confidence, it wasn't a bad one.

"Ok, one last question. How would you feel about being told what to do by someone younger than you?" I posed.

"I assume you mean yourself?"

"Yeah, but also *NSYNC. I know that you will technically be their manager, but that doesn't give you the right to start ordering them around. You can only suggest that they do something, and if they won't then you call me. So would you be Ok with that?"

"Sure I would, as long as they treated me with the respect that I treated them with."

"Right. Good answer." I complimented him, causing him to grin, his full lips pulling back to reveal those sparkling teeth again.

"So that just about wraps this up..." I said.

"Did I pass?" Ben asked fervently.

"It's up to Johnny, but I won't be surprised if I see you on Thursday." I smiled.

"Cool, wow... great, thanks a lot." He said as he stood.

I reached over from my position to press the intercom on Johnny's desk. "Could you page Mr. Wright please?" I asked the girl on the other end, and then to Ben I said, "I'd get out of here before the fireworks start if I were you."


"I wish I could've been there." Justin laughed.

"It was pretty funny; he stammered and stuttered like nobody's business." I said into my cell phone as I wandered out into the parking lot of my apartment block.

"I just can't believe you made Johnny Wright crumble..." He paused in thought, "It's the psychiatrist thing right? I'll bet it's gotten you out of a few tough scrapes along the way."

"Well yeah... I guess it has, but don't tell anyone, I'm only supposed to use my powers for good." I kidded, as I spotted a delivery truck turning into the parking area, I waved at the driver, who nodded back.

"So, you've got less work to do now?" Justin asked.

"Not really, technically I've got the same amount of work as what I went in with, I just don't have to organize the dinner for the record execs, he's going to do that. Oh, and the tour manager and I still get to host it, so we get to impress our bosses without lifting a finger." I grinned at the thought of our 'arrangement'.

"Sounds like a good deal to me." He commented as the air brakes of the truck were put on and let out a loud 'whoosh'. The driver got out and rounded the cabin to speak to me. "Hey Alex!" Justin shouted, causing me to pull my phone away from my ear, "I think you're losing reception, there's all this weird background noise!" I snickered slightly; Justin wasn't always the brightest star in the night sky, but he'd always been nothing but nice to me so I pressed the cell back to my cheek.

"Is that better Just?" I asked, not changing a thing.

"Yeah, I can hear you now... uh... oh yeah, your meeting with the tour guy, how was that?" Justin asked, but before I could respond our conversation was interrupted by the truck driver.

"You Alex Michaels?" He asked in a gruff voice, pointing at me with the end of his chewed pen.

"Sorry Just, could you hang on a second?"

"Sure."

"Yeah, that's me." I stated, showing him my driver's license.

"You order a bike?" He questioned succinctly.

"Yep." I responded in the same manner. Without saying another word the guy proceeded to open the side of the truck.

"Sorry 'bout that Just." I returned to my cell.

"S'Ok, now what about that tour manager?" He asked once more.

"Uh... His name's Ben, he's 26, he seemed pretty nice and he's originally from NYC." I described him to Justin.

"Does he stand a chance?" He queried.

"A pretty damn good chance. He's properly qualified, I gave him a reasonable reference and most importantly Johnny likes him." I explained, as I watched the delivery guy set up a ramp next to his truck and then climb up into it.

"That should make things easier for all of us." Justin hesitated before asking his next question, "Have you... uh... spoken to Josh today?"

"I had lunch with him." I stated, watching my bike being wheeled down the ramp. I couldn't resist getting a closer look.

"You did?!" Justin exclaimed.

"You sound surprised." I laughed slightly as I ran my hand lightly along the saddle.

"I kinda get the impression that you don't like him. You always seem to side with Lance, not that I disagree with that or anything, you're just a little harsh on Jayce sometimes." Justin said.

"I'm trying my damnedest not to take sides Just, which is why I had lunch with JC. If I'm honest, I think he's a really cool guy... but I also think he's got some issues to deal with, particularly regarding Lance." I spoke into my cell as the delivery guy came towards me, holding out a clipboard.

"Could you sign here please?" He asked as he handed me a set of keys. I signed and thanked him, I didn't know if I should tip him or not, but he probably called me everything as he drove to his next destination as I chose not to.

"It's so strange; they got along really well a while back..." Justin continued, before saying, "Listen Alex I gotta go, they just got out the booth and I'm next."

"Sure, talk to you later... hey, could you do me a favor and hand me to Lance?" I requested.

"Of course. Ciao Alex!" Justin laughed. There was a short period of silence, presumably while Justin spoke to Joey, Chris and Lance who had been recording the backing for the song they were working on. During that time, I headed back up to my apartment, opting for the stairs since the cell signal was always virtually non-existent in the elevator. Lance came on the line just as I was unlocking my front door.

"Hey." He greeted me simply. At the sound of his voice I broke out into a broad smile.

"Hey." I replied.


"Daniel!" The boy's mother called from downstairs, "Dinner's almost done, come and help me lay the table!"

"I'll be down in a second Mom!" Daniel replied with equal volume. He continued to type a message into his computer; he checked it over and clicked send. He giggled when he received a response and then he signed off the chat program and shut down his computer. He left his room and headed for the bathroom, where he washed his hands. All the while a sentence flew around inside his head, 'How about we meet up sometime?'. He had his doubts, basically because he wasn't stupid, he knew it could be dangerous, but if they met in a public place and went for a pizza or something... well, where was the harm in that?

He'd think about it some more, he decided as he scurried down the staircase and into the kitchen. "Need some help Mom?" He asked. Without saying a word she grabbed a handful of knives and forks and placed them on the counter in front of him. He took the hint and opened a drawer pulling out three place mats. He was about to leave the room with an arm full of cutlery, when he stopped, "Where's Pops?" his brow furrowed in question.

His mother chuckled before saying, "Oh, you know how he is. He said he was stopping by Minister Davies' this evening. He's more than likely got into a discussion about something or other. He'll be home before we sit down to eat." She returned to her pots of steaming goop, while Daniel sauntered out of the room, his cheery mood had been damaged slightly by the reminder that his parents were so friendly with their local minister and were such avid church- goers.

All of those questions which he had been trying to avoid came flooding back to him. He was going to tell them, that he had already decided, but would they accept him? Perhaps more importantly, what would happen if they didn't? He finished laying the table, and returned to the kitchen to talk his Mom, in the hope that it would distract him from his thoughts.

He peered over her shoulder as she stirred their food. "You can do this if you want, it would be a big help." She said, noticing Daniel's interest in her actions. He grabbed the wooden spoon before it slid into the thick 'gumbo', or at least that's what Daniel's mother called it, and began to slowly stir it. "How was your lunch with Mrs. Brown Mom?" He asked, wanting to strike up a conversation.

"Quite entertaining actually." She commented, "You know that woman never could cook very well. She even managed make a mess of a sandwich platter." She then went into a rant about how all the other ladies at their meeting were false and were only trying to suck up to Mrs. Brown, the cruddy chef, granted she didn't use those exact words but that's what she was getting at.

Daniel lifted the spoon from the pan, only to see a blob of the mush that they would soon be eating fall from it and splatter back into the goop, splashing the sides of the container. "Not like you can talk." Daniel muttered under his breath. His own sarcasm caused him to giggle, which his mother picked up on.

When she next reached a breath in her story she asked, "Is there something funny Danny?"

"Nah Mom." He replied, bending the truth so as not to offend her, "I was thinking about something that happened in school today."

"Oh? You'll have to tell me now, I'm intrigued." She smiled genuinely, not picking up on his lie.

"You really had to be there." The young boy covered, taking a break from his task of stirring the food to glance at his mother in an attempt to read her face.

"As long as it's nothing to do with girls." She began her often repeated lecture.

"I know Mom."

"You wait at least until you're twenty-one before you start dating..." she nagged.

"Mom, we've been through this..."

"There are only two things that make a teenage boy giggle like that, dirty jokes and girls." Daniel's mother continued.

"What's this about girls?" Daniel's father asked in a booming voice as he entered the kitchen.

"Hey Dad" Daniel mumbled, worried about the direction that their conversation was taking.

"Honestly!" His father exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief, and then continued, growling, "People these days... while I was at the minister's he got a call from a girl, asking if he would marry her and her boyfriend... she was only sixteen!"

"Goodness!" His mother sighed. Daniel, who was totally disinterested in his Dad's story, he brought the wooden spoon he was holding to mouth and tasted the broth. He wrinkled his nose at the salty taste.

"That wasn't the worst of it." The older man bellowed, "She wanted to get married because she was pregnant!"

"Oh dear!" The woman exclaimed in astonishment, before tying the story into her ongoing speech "You see Danny, that's what happens when you don't wait until later in life, until marriage."

"Sure Mom." Daniel muttered, once again reminded of his parent's high moral standards. He wondered how he would broach the subject of his sexuality with them, and whether the letter he had written was such a good idea. All Daniel knew was that he couldn't bottle up his feelings much longer.


As I crossed the studio's dance floor I became very self-conscious, sure that I could feel the eyes of onlookers boring into the back of my head. I was heading towards a corner of the studio where several trestle tables had been set up for the purpose of serving food to the applicants. However, it was now long past lunchtime and all that was sitting on the tables was Justin, cross-legged and pouring over a sketch pad of some sort. According to Wade and the female choreographers he had distanced himself from everyone all day, especially since he had been hassled by some of the star struck dancers when they entered the studio in the morning. "I thought I might find you here." I said softly as I neared him.

"Uh?" His head snapped around to face me, "Why wouldn't I be here?"

"Don't you remember anything different about Wednesday afternoon?" I asked jovially.

"Um, no. Should I?" His face became panicked. I'm sure I frowned a little at his reaction but I then attempted to sooth him, "It was the first costume fitting today Just, but don't worry about it...

"Oh shit, I totally forgot about it!" He blurted, interrupting me. He swung his legs down from the table and stood. He hurriedly grabbed a jacket from the table and slipped it on.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Slow down, you'll give yourself a coronary. There's no need to rush, there're five of you and you know as well as I do that they can only measure you up one at time. Let one of the others go first for once..."

"No... I'd better get going", Justin interjected as he started to hurry across the room. I followed him, breaking into a trot to keep up. "I can't believe I forgot this." He muttered several paces ahead of me. I followed him across the dance floor. I couldn't help but notice the eyes of every one in the room, which I was normally so conscious of, were now following Justin. It may have been the first time, despite being their manager, that I realized what the guys of *NSYNC actually do, to be watched by the world's press, idolized by millions, it only added to my previous thought of how difficult their lives actually were.

As Justin crossed the room and breezed into the reception area I hung back from him slightly, not wanting to appear confrontational. I waved at Wade as we left and as I looked back towards where I expected Justin to be I found that he had already left the building. I started to become quite worried about him; his actions were totally uncharacteristic, totally different from the normally chirpy and friendly Justin. I left the building quickly and looked around for him, bringing my hand to my forehead to attempt to reduce the glare from the sun. I caught sight of him crossing the lot towards his Mercedes.

I heard his car alarm squeak twice and the engine roar into life as he pressed a button on his key fob. I hurried towards him, wanting to catch him before he had a chance to run from his problem, whatever that may be. People often find talking to a psychiatrist a scary experience as they know that when they do they'll be forced to face everything that they've been avoiding. Being a psychiatrist means that the effect is even more apparent; when there is something on a person's mind they'll avoid you, simply because they're afraid you'll somehow squeeze it out of them when they aren't ready to reveal it. And so, Justin was avoiding me, I suspected for this very reason.

I caught up with him as he was opening his car door. I placed my hand on his outstretched wrist. "What's wrong Just?" I asked simply.

"Uh... I...uh, nothing, I'm fine." He stuttered, and forced a smile.

"So, why are you avoiding me? And why weren't you joining in back there?" I questioned, probably too harshly.

"I was... uh..." He hesitated, before purposefully checking his watch, "Look Alex, I've really gotta get going. I might see you tomorrow."

The words tumbled from his mouth so quickly and he hopped into his seat with such speed that I didn't have a chance to respond, other than saying, "Justin..." He ignored me and slammed the door. As he pulled away, the meaning of his parting comment struck me, "You might see me tomorrow?!" I shouted, "Might?! What the hell's that supposed to mean?!"

There was something going on behind my back; and I didn't like it.


Lance and I chattered away happily that evening. My motorcycle had gone down a treat, so much so that I was dragged out into the city to find him a set of leathers so he could come for a ride with me. I found the way he got so excited over something like riding a bike really cute, but what was even better was the way he had tapped the back of my helmet and yelled at me to stop after a sharp bend, which I rounded a little too fast. He had made it about three feet away from me before he threw up.

I drove much slower on the way back to my apartment, and Lance seemed to prefer that. We decided that he should probably work his way up to higher speeds and steeper banking, I did remind him that we both still had vehicles with four wheels so there was no need for him to ever hop on the back of my 'cycle. His response to that was that he wanted to get used to it so that he had an excuse to wears the leathers and look as sexy as I did. I had blushed.

Being around Lance caused me to forget all of the other things on my mind, namely Justin and his earlier actions but also the approaching tour and my new coworker, Ben. Tomorrow was his first day on the job; he was going to spend most of the day with me, interviewing prospective staff members. I was introducing him to *NSYNC tomorrow night, since it was to be the first of their late night rehearsals in the dance studio.

Lance and I seemed to be getting closer, and slowly, little by little I sense his inhibitions sliding away. Although our steamy encounter a few nights ago had seemed to be a disaster at the time, I now felt that it was a necessary step on the road to being together. Our snuggling on the sofa, that Wednesday night, was interrupted by a noise at the front door. We both recognized the sound of a key turning in the lock; in a sharp contrast to my lethargic reaction, Lance quickly sat bolt upright and re-buttoned his shirt and smoothed out his hair.

I looked around in time to see my mother breeze in through the doorway. "Hey." I welcomed her warmly, despite the minor hostilities between us earlier in the week when she found out about my preferred mode of transport.

"Hi Sweetheart." She returned my greeting, causing me to breathe a silent sigh of relief. As she neared the sitting area, and Lance came into view, she stopped, "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't think you'd have company tonight."

"That's alright Mum. Come sit down." I gestured to another couch. There was an awkward moment as she parked herself and waited for me to make the obvious introductions. However, I was unsure exactly how I supposed to go about this, the most straightforward way would be 'This is Lance, my boyfriend' but if I couldn't call him that, then I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate being introduced to my mother like that. I opted for, with some hesitation, "Mum this is Lance, a... close friend, from work."

"Pleased to meet you ma'am..." He offered her his hand, and when she accepted, he shook it gently.

"Its nice to see you're associating with such polite people Alex." My mother beamed, causing Lance to blush a little. "Which brings me on to the reason for my visit tonight..."

"So it's not just a social call?" I giggled a little.

"No. It's about your brother." She stated sternly.

"Uh... I think I'll get us some coffee." Lance said, standing, obviously feeling a little out of place. "Would you like some Mrs. Michaels?"

"Thank you dear." She smiled, "Black. No sugar." Lance nodded and obediently trotted to the kitchen. When she was sure he couldn't hear, my mother whispered, "Polite and a looker; you should hold onto him."

"Mum!" I whined, blushing at her brusqueness. "So what's this about Jesse?"

"He didn't go to school today." She stated.

"Oh?"

"He was hung over Alex." She growled, "He's seventeen years old... and he comes home drunk on a school night. I couldn't believe it."

"Are you sure he was drunk Mum? It doesn't sound like Jess. He could be ill or something." I rationalized.

"Alex." She sighed, her harsh exterior crumbling, "He went out with some boys last night, and he came home smelling of cigarettes and alcohol."

"Oh..." Thinking of another line of defense I continued, "Perhaps he was invited to party; you know how teenagers are... He probably didn't want to be missing out on something, especially if that girl he likes was going." My mother looked thoughtful for a moment, but then her scowl returned.

"No, no, that's not it. He specifically told me he was going into the city with a guy... uh, Jamie... no, that's not it..." She paused trying to think of the culprits' name. But she didn't have to, as in a moment of clarity everything fell into place in my mind. She proceeded to confirm my suspicions, "...I've got it... it wasn't Jamie, it was Justin."

I could feel the color drain from my face, as I allowed my head to bow. As I groaned in annoyance, another thought hit me, Justin was scared of talking to me, scared because he was guilty.


End of Chapter 13


So this chapter was late, very late, and I'm sorry for that. Anyway I hope everyone's still reading and if you are then please e-mail me with your opinions.

mystories@btinternet.com

Next: Chapter 14


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